Building a Classical Music Library: Palestrina
Fans of medieval music will complain that my survey begins in the Renaissance. However, as I stated in my introduction, I am writing this as a non-expert and taking my cues from Phil G. Goulding’s book Classical Music: The 50 Greatest Composers and their 1000 Greatest Works. He starts with Palestrina and so will I.
Palestrina (1525-94) wrote almost exclusively religious music in the form of masses, motets, offertories and so on. It was music specifically written to be played in church, not the concert hall.
His significance can not be over-stated. He composed at a time when the Catholic church was seeking to reduce the secular influences in religious music, attempting a musical retreat to the stringent world of the Gregorian chant. As beautiful as plainsong might be, such strictures would be the equivalent of asking The Arctic Monkeys to write in the style of the Victorian music-hall.
The story goes that Palestrina's contribution to this debate was his masterpiece, the Missa Papae Marcelli. Despite being an establishment man (and wealthy as a result), the Missa was resolutely non-Gregorian. But it was also so beautiful that it persuaded the Catholic cardinals to vote against the proposed plans.
Musicologists have questioned the accuracy of this tale and much of the mythologising that surrounds Palestrina, some of which has overshadowed the merits of his contemporaries.
However, this is not to question the glory of his output. Musically, he is regarded as the supreme model for polyphonic relgious music and the basis for the study of counterpoint.
But his modernity had its limits: he eschewed the growing contemporary trend for dissonance, preferring to concentrate on harmony and melody. For a 21st century ear, the question is whether the purity and beauty of his expression compensates for the lack of anguish we are more accostomed to encountering in our music?
Key composition: Missa Papae Marcelli
Recommended recording: Tallis Scholars Live in Rome (compare prices at Froogle)
Palestrina (1525-94) wrote almost exclusively religious music in the form of masses, motets, offertories and so on. It was music specifically written to be played in church, not the concert hall.
His significance can not be over-stated. He composed at a time when the Catholic church was seeking to reduce the secular influences in religious music, attempting a musical retreat to the stringent world of the Gregorian chant. As beautiful as plainsong might be, such strictures would be the equivalent of asking The Arctic Monkeys to write in the style of the Victorian music-hall.
The story goes that Palestrina's contribution to this debate was his masterpiece, the Missa Papae Marcelli. Despite being an establishment man (and wealthy as a result), the Missa was resolutely non-Gregorian. But it was also so beautiful that it persuaded the Catholic cardinals to vote against the proposed plans.
Musicologists have questioned the accuracy of this tale and much of the mythologising that surrounds Palestrina, some of which has overshadowed the merits of his contemporaries.
However, this is not to question the glory of his output. Musically, he is regarded as the supreme model for polyphonic relgious music and the basis for the study of counterpoint.
But his modernity had its limits: he eschewed the growing contemporary trend for dissonance, preferring to concentrate on harmony and melody. For a 21st century ear, the question is whether the purity and beauty of his expression compensates for the lack of anguish we are more accostomed to encountering in our music?
Key composition: Missa Papae Marcelli
Recommended recording: Tallis Scholars Live in Rome (compare prices at Froogle)
posted by Joe at
5:49 pm
2 Comments:
I'm happy to have a conversation with myself here. I'll be honest and say that I have serious doubts about this 'building a library' venture, prone as it is to pomposity and a place in Pseuds Corner. After all, why not just enjoy this personal pleasure quietly rather than via the self-indulgent medium that is a blog?
Except, I don't suppose I'd have come across the Palestrina unless I'd committed myself to Geoff to doing this. Well thank God I did commit myself and thank God I have now come across the Palestrina mass.
I don't care what your musical tastes are, but this is sensational. It's written for four parts (in this recording four singers for each of those parts), with no instrumentation. That makes for a bracing sparseness. At the same time, each of those four parts are concurrently going in different directions, somehow without clashing. That makes for an dense richness. So it's sparse and rich at the same time.
The impact of this is (it's Pseuds Corner time) that you're bombarded with sensory impressions but left with room in which your mind wanders. It might be music that glorifies God, but there is a plangent quality to it that compels you to think about those things that trouble and sadden you.
In the middle of life's incessant hurly-burly, when we never find that quiet space in which to contemplate our most pressing concerns and fears, the Palestrina will forge some space for you.
No matter how much you may hate this project, you will not for a minute hate the precious gift offered by Palestrina's creative insight.
By
Joe, at 6:36 pm
I'm a great fan of Palestrina. I love early polyphony and Palestrina is the bee's knees. Other good ones are Victoria, Lobo, Byrd. I'm less keen on Tallis although his 'Spem in Alium' is the most sublime piece of music ever.
The Sixteen (conducted by Harry Christophers) produce excellent recordings of this type of music.
Happy to join in a one-to-one with you, Joe. Don't have time to read your entire post now, but I'll come back to it.
By
Leaping Badger, at 7:56 pm
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